


The Reason for Still Using Quills, or, How to Raise the Dead

by Idle_Hans



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Zombie Apocalypse, world-building
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:08:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24902845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Idle_Hans/pseuds/Idle_Hans
Summary: Obligatory zombie apocalypse ficlet.
Kudos: 13





	The Reason for Still Using Quills, or, How to Raise the Dead

**Author's Note:**

> This started life as a simple [**Pocket University**](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1798099) about a Hogwarts professor explaining to a class of first years why plastic biros weren’t permitted in class, but then it mutated.
> 
> If you’re hanging out for a proper Harry Potter zombie apocalypse story, try [_11th Hour_](https://archiveofourown.org/works/129845) by **Amand_r**.
> 
> * * *

As promised, the Chief Warlock (the term was apparently gender neutral) and her assistant appeared in the cabinet room at ten o'clock. When the Prime Minister moved to speak, the assistant witch held up her hand and said, "One moment, please. _Revenanti revelare_." Nothing happened that the Prime Minister could see, but the witch seemed satisfied as she looked around. " _Repellum revenanti_. No one here is infected, Chief Warlock, and the room is shielded for now."

"Thank you, Iris," said the Chief Warlock, "and good morning, Prime Minister."

The Prime Minister of what was left of the United Kingdom let out an exhalation of relief. This was a good start to the meeting.

That feeling didn't last.

* * *

"Oh no, Prime Minister. It's not _we_ who raised the dead. That was _you_. Let me demonstrate. I'm going to cast what used to be the standard incantation for detecting cursed objects. _Inimicum revelare_."

Nearly everything in the room started to glow that wasn't the Chief Warlock and her attendant. Pens, paint, phones, furniture, clothes, spectacle lenses, even people's skin (especially where makeup was applied) and hair.

"All things made from or with the use of petrochemicals, which is to say nearly everything in your modern world, are arguably cursed objects. This is because petrochemicals are formed from living things that died in circumstances such that they couldn't compost, couldn't resume the cycle of life, and were instead forced to _putrefy_ for millions of years. This may have occurred as a natural process, but nonetheless it is a perversion of the cycle of life. The curse is mild enough, and undirected enough, that we're still unable to say exactly what effect it's been having on you. Or on us, for that matter, since you insist on spreading the stuff throughout the world — soil, water, and air."

"Still unable to say?", expostulated the minister of defence. "The dead are crawling out of their graves!"

"Oh, but that's a very special case," replied the Chief Warlock. "The richer countries have been adopting a practice whereby many of your dead are chemically embalmed and then buried in hermetically sealed coffins. This means that they can never return to Nature. You will find that it is those who are not resting in peace."

"I see," said the Prime Minister. "Well, thank you for that explanation. Could we please return to the question of what is to be done about it?"

"Oh, that is also easy to explain. The very manner in which you live is cursing this entire world. And now that is turning around to bite you." The Chief Warlock and her assistant smiled at that little joke, but no one else did.

"The original revenants shall continue their slow rampage until they are destroyed individually, but the masses they have bitten are going to rot away in a few months. The end of next summer at the latest." The Chief Warlock stood up as if preparing to leave, and her assistant followed suit.

"Until then, Prime Minister, what's to be done is that we sit behind our anti-revenant wards and wait it out. You, alas, will not have that luxury. Good day, Prime Minister."

And the two robed women disappeared.


End file.
